


Not a moment to spare

by HereticalTransience



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Established Relationship, Frigga Feels, I'm Going to Hell, Loki Feels, Loki has Frigga feels, Loki-centric, Longshot - Freeform, M/M, Mechanical Animals, Memories, Oneshot, Out of Character, Robot Feels, Terminal Illnesses, Thor isn't an ass, Tony Feels, Tony is an ass, Tony's robot babies, all my friends are robots, good guys don't care, lots of blood, majorly OOC, mentions of abuse, mentions of torture, non-canon, nothing is immortal, run over with the angst tank, severe angst, these tags are a mess, this one is going to HURT
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-22
Updated: 2014-11-22
Packaged: 2018-02-26 13:51:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2654348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HereticalTransience/pseuds/HereticalTransience
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The truth is that all things die without love."</p>
<p>"Even gods?"</p>
<p>"Yes, even gods."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not a moment to spare

Loki walked around the open space that had become the default rumpus room of Avengers Tower. His eyes roved over every surface, hands softly drifting over random objects and even trailing across the furniture. An eraser accidentally left behind by Rodgers, feather trimmings under the edge of a couch from Barton's attempt to hand make traditional arrows, one of Lady Natasha's wooden dolls brought back from a mission in Russia, one of the worry stones that Banner left in all the common areas of the tower – all those and more each had a long examination from the Trickster, as though they were each the most fascinating thing in all the realms.

As he rounded the space he seemed to be replaying memories in his mind, judging by the way his face would alternatively light us or fall into sadness, in addition to attempting to impress them room itself into his memory.

He approached the floor-to-ceiling windows that spanned an entire wall. Leaning a heavy arm against one of the panes, he stared out across the priceless view of Manhattan, a multitude of thoughts whirring in his head.

There was a childhood that was more lies than anything else, the failed attempt to prove to all Thor's complete lack of worth to take the throne of Asgard, falling through the Void and being found by The Other... Loki shuddered with the pain of that memory. Torture at the hands of the Chitauri and their leader – such dull beings, yet so creative in their applications of pain – having his mind torn apart under the control of an Infinity Stone, being pulled about like a puppet on strings yet somehow still managing to hold on to enough of himself such that he was able to conceal enough obvious exploits in his plan that even “Earth's Mightiest Superheroes” could thwart Thanos' forces.

Briefly he glanced to the place on the floor where the green beast had thrashed him bodily about, like a spoiled child having a fit. It may have only taken a slight knock to the head to dislodge the scepter's control from a regular mortal, but it had taken having over a dozen bones broken in addition to a partially shattered skull to undo the power such an item held over a god.

Originally Stark had kept the Loki-shaped crater in the floor as a bizarre kind of monument, even going to far as to have it filled in with green marble veined with gold, but had eventually had the floor repaired to match the rest of the room after the... relationship between himself and the god had become decidedly more intimate. Now the space was covered with a rug presented to the Avengers as a gift from one realm or another for their aid in destroying the Chitauri threat. It was an eye-searingly garish collection of colors and conflicting patterns. Tony loved it.

The deity looked back out the window, this time not seeing the view so much as flashes of memory, this time of his second meeting with that annoying caricature of genius, Tony Stark. Even months and years later the memories of his time under the influence of the Mind Gem were unclear, though all the ones after his first meeting with Banner's other half were as brilliant as diamonds and started, fittingly enough, with tremendous pain. Unsurprising, of course, but what can one do?

No, what was replaying against the landscape of memory were hazy fragments: of watching the red armored man landing and mechanical arms stripping off the pieces of his suit, an exchange of witty banter such as he'd not had for an age, the offer of a drink (that wouldn't be collected on for over a year), of his long-fingered pale hand against the tanned throat of the inventor, glass shattering, and pain, pain, so much endless pain.

Thor was there too, in all his red and gold glory, but it wasn't the right red, the red of so much blood that had painted his life, or the right gold, the shining perfect gold of Asgard that hid endless falsehoods. No, his red and gold belonged to a smart-mouthed mortal with more ego than common sense and a vast, hidden reserve of need and love buried under layers of betrayal. 

Loki chuckled to himself, the sound echoing eerily in the empty room. Had someone told him he would come to love those colors so heavily associated with his not-brother and it would be due to a human of all creatures, he would have thought them mad and sent them to the healers.

JARVIS, ever vigilant, picked up on the noise. “Is everything well, Master Loki?”

'As well as can be,” said the god, pushing himself away from the windows. “Tell me, where are the others at this time?”

“Captain Rogers left a short time ago to run some personal errands as well as to purchase groceries for dinner. He is currently surrounded by fans just outside the art supply store, but does not appear to be in any danger.”

Loki waved his hand in a 'please continue' manner.

“Master Odinson left shortly after the departure of the Captain, it seems he received a call from Ms. Foster who wished for him to join her in New Mexico to look at some test results with her. Lady Romanov and Mister Barton are currently sparring in the gym. Doctor Banner is in his lab, currently engaged in a project. Sir is likewise in his lab and is also engaged with a project. Do you wish me to contact any of them for you?”

“No, but thank you, JARVIS,” he replied. “I think perhaps I'd like to drop in on them all and have a word or two with them, but without prior announcement.”

If the machine intelligence were capable of pausing for thought, the few seconds of silence following Loki's words would have filled that role.

“Begging your pardon, sir, but might it not be advisable to at least notify Doctor Banner of your visit in advance?”

After a moment's consideration of the fact that the interactions between himself and the scientist were far less strained then at the beginning, Loki saw the wisdom in the A.I.'s advice.

“Yes,” he said after a moment, “that would be sensible. I will see him after meeting with Lady Natasha and Barton so that he has time to adjust to the idea of my visiting him.” He began walking towards the elevator.

“Very good, sir. Shall I send you directly to the gym level?”

“Please, and then to Banner's lab after that, if you would.” Loki stepped into the lift, the doors closing soundlessly behind him.

  


* * *

  


The sounds of a vicious and fast-paced sparring match between the two spies could be heard well before coming within reach of the gym's open door. Slightly lower in volume, a discerning ear could pick out the faint strains of “The Fountain of Bakhchisarai” which was obviously the Widow's pick. Hawkeye's usual sparring fare tended to be something called “honky-tonk country” that absolutely no one else in the tower could tolerate.

Leaning against the metal doorframe, Loki watched as the readhead and the archer traded a series of strikes, blocks, and parries, sweeping legs and kicks, precision punches, and moves from countless forms of martial arts blended together in one physical symphony.

Given that Barton was matching Lady Natasha's moves with the exact same speed, it was obvious this session was more about practice and staying fit than an actual skills competition. If she had been fighting with the intent to incapicate her opponent, Loki knew Barton would have been unconscious long before they had built up the obvious layer of persperation visible on his and Romanov's brows.

Somehow the archer managed to slip behind the woman and catch her in a choke hold, but just as quickly as he applied it she reached over her sholders to grab him under the arms and quickly flipped forward, slamming him flat on his back in front of her and followed the motion by dropping a knee onto his throat with just enough pressure to make his eyes widen in actual fear.

While the pair was poised mid-tableau, Loki took a breath to clear his throat but was beaten to the punch by the slender spy.

“Did you need something, Loki?” Natasha's deceptively flat tone did nothing to hide her apparent irritation at having the resident mischief maker show up unexpectedly. Not that she hadn't been aware of him from the moment he exited the elevator, never doubt: Black Widow could identify a known individual on the approach just by the sound of their footsteps, and the nearly silent ones of the god were no exception.

“Loki? Fuck, when did he get here?” said Barton, barely disguised disgust in his voice. Although the archer had come to the realization that he had to deal with Loki's presence in the tower, sometimes only after having it literally pounded into him by either Tony or Natasha, he had never managed anything more than to just barely keep things tolerable. Loki, for his many faults, had treated him with the patience of a political liason but had learned better than to even attempt any friendly overtures.

“I do beg your pardon for interrupting,” he said, pointedly ignoring the blonde's muttered “I'll bet,” and Natasha applying just a bit more pressure to the man's throat which caused him to curtail any further commentary, “I merely wished to speak with you both if you have a moment.”

The Widow leveled Loki with a glare as if attempting to see through any potential game the god might have been playing. Whatever she saw must not have satisfied her criteria as she huffed out an exasperated, “We're in the middle of sparring. Can it wait?”

“Of course,” politely returned the god. “It is no pressing matter. Please don't mind me, I shall see myself out.”

Before he had even finished speaking, the archer was already shoving Natasha's knee off his throat and rising to his feet, so Loki let them be.

Turning away from the doorjamb, the dark-haired man made his way back towards the elevator, though this time his walk seemed to be slower and somewhat unsteady. Once inside, he asked JARVIS to take him to the floor housing Dr. Banner's research lab.

Making his way down the short corridor to the labratory seemed to tired the Ás, as he had to stop just before being visible to anyone working inside and lean against the wall for a moment. At JARVIS' soft inquiry as to whether he was well, he instead asked if the scientist had been informed that he was on his way and if he was expecting him. JARVIS returned an affirmative and offered that if Loki would wait a moment, he would inform the man that he was outside. Loki simply nodded his acquiescence.

Some minutes later he was startled out of a reverie he wasn't aware of falling into by Banner calling his name softly.

“Oh, my apologies doctor; I wasn't aware that I had drifted off. Do please forgive me.”

“Hey, it's all right, it happens sometimes,” Bruce offered him a tiny smile. “Didn't think woolgathering would affect someone like you, though.”

Loki cocked his head to the aide, evaluating the scientist's words. “I think all creatures get lost in though sometimes, especially when there is much weighing on their minds.”

Banner nodded. “Is that why you're here? You know I'm usually up for a conversation, especially for all the insights into other realms, but I'm kind of really busy with some time sensitive experiments in there,” he gestured towards the lab. “I'd really love to talk but...”

The doctor paused before leaning slightly towards the deity.

“Are you okay? You look kind of pale. I mean, uh, more than usual. And you sound tired.” He leaned back, running his hand through his hair sheepishly. “Even though I'm not actually a medical doctor I always end up being one, huh?”

Loki tried to grace him with a smile but it came out wan under the glaring florescent lights.

“Well enough,” he said, breaking eye contact with the shorter man. “Perhaps, as you say, a bit tired; I did not sleep well last night.” Loki did not mention that he hadn't slept at all over the past several nights, it wouldn't do to keep the researcher from his work. “Did you not say that your current work is time sensitive? Perhaps you should...”

“OH CRAP!” cried the scientist as he dashed back towards the lab where a few wisps of white smoke were just becoming visible at one of the stations.

“Should return to your work,” Loki finished in the otherwise empty hallway. “JARVIS?”

“Yes, Master Loki?”

“Is the damage extensive?”

There was a very brief pause. “Doctor's Banner's current experiment had an estimated ninety-seven point eight percent chance of going into catastrophic failure. There is complete loss of one plastic test tube and cap with minor scorching on the shelf of the incubator unit and minor smoke damage to same, both of which can be easily fixed with some intense scrubbing. The local air filters for that station will need to be changed as plastic smoke is highly toxic and one of the service bots is already on the way with a replacement. Given that the chemical combination under observation was already in a cascade reaction before I even notified Doctor Banner of your wish to speak with him, it is safe to say that the minutes you spent in conversation with Doctor Banner had no appreciable effect on the outcome of the experiment.”

For a moment Loki wondered if the A.I. wasn't trying to reassure him, but offering emotional comfort was not something that could be programmed into a machine, even one that had the ability to learn and adapt. Unless... But no, he dismissed that thought. Even if it were true, it would be of little relevance right now. If things kept on their current path, and the trickster doubted the Norns had enough regard for him to change the thread of his fate this late in the game, there would be no use in wasting his breath to tell the one it would be most relevant to about the change in the machine intelligence.

He turned towards the end of the hall and the waiting elevator when he was overcome with lightheadedness which sent him all but crashing into the wall. Somehow just just barely managed to keep on his feet though he was leaning heavily on the wall for support as he sucked in ragged breath after ragged breath, feeling as though the very air turned to water the moment it his his lungs.

“Sir, Doctor Banner will be here in a mo-”

“NO!” barked the god, the single word sending him into a coughing fit that had him on his knees immediately. “Override code Golden Outside Dawn alpha domino six-one-six,” he managed to spit out in the split-second intervals between violent hacks.

“Override code accepted. Doctor Banner has been informed that his services are unnecessary at this time.” The mechanical voice seemed, once again, to hesitate before continuing and Loki used that interval to force himself to calm his breathing. “Master Loki, I still believe you should seek medical attention. Your vital signs have been dropping at an increasing rate since this morning.”

“So they have,” but Loki was speaking mostly to himself as he slowly, painfully forced himself to his feet and began to trudge down the corridor, leaning heavily on the wall for support.

Eventually he made it into the lift and fell back sharply into the far corner. The doors closed but the box itself failed to move.

“Yes, JARVIS, I am aware of what is happening and, so it seems, are you. Even as you are no longer simply a program responding to mathematical calculations and observation of data, I am... ceasing to be.”

“You are dying,” replied JARVIS, the voice sounding less mechanical now and more truly worried.

“If you wish to be dramatic about it...” Loki tried to chuckle but the action caused his lungs to seize up and send him into another painful bout of coughing.

There was a short hiss and a few minutes later the god found his breath coming slightly easier.

“I have used the secondary environmental systems to increase the oxygen level within the elevator compartment. However, it will only provide temporary relief while you remain inside the carriage.” 

“My thanks to you, JARVIS,” he said once he was sure he could speak clearly enough again. “It will be enough to see me to my last stop.”

“Sir's lab.”

“The very place. Anthony is the last person present in the Tower that I wanted to speak with today.”

“Please tell me you are planning to inform Sir of your condition.” The machine, no, the sentient intelligence had now taken on a pleading tone. “Perhaps Sir can find a solution to your current ailment.” Now JARVIS sounded almost hopeful.

Unfortunately, Loki's millennia of experience had already given him the answer.

“He could, but I am almost certain that he will not.” There was a sound of a sharply in-drawn breath, as if JARVIS meant to interrupt him, but he continued, “It is not because he would refuse to do it; you and I both know that while your creator may be reckless and selfish at times, he has not ever been needlessly cruel. No, when I say he will not provide it it is because even he does not perceive that he is, in many ways, responsible. And no, I cannot explain just yet, but if there is a chance, then before the end, I will tell you.”

“Now,” he said, slowly drawing together as much composure as possible, “please convey me to Anthony's lab. There is little time left and I would at least see him once more.”

“Very well, Master Loki.”

“I think that, under the circumstances, you are more than welcome to drop the formalities.”

“Very well... Loki,” said JARVIS, sounding pleased but with a touch of sadness.

The motors engaged as gently as the A.I. could make them, and slowly the elevator began to rise, the motion carefully controlled so as not to unduly jostle the increasingly passenger on his last trip through the tower.

Somewhere between gathering what little strength he had left and being lost in thought, Loki did not notice the lift coming to a halt on the floor containing Tony's private labs. JARVIS chimed a soft melody that finally brought the dying god back to his senses, but left the doors shut for the moment.

Loki breathed deeply, trying to get as much of the highly oxygenated air as he could before exiting.

“Is there something you wished to tell me, JARVIS?” he inquired softly.

“I... No, Loki. I will keep the carriage on this floor if there is another stop you wish to make.”

The deity hummed to himself, a bare hint of a smile touching the corners of his mouth. “I think there will be just one more after this, and then I will not bother you again.”

“Of all the visitors, welcome and not, that this tower has had, you were never a bother,” said the program.

“That is... quite kind of you to say.” There was a momentary green shimmer in the air as Loki pulled on the last of his magical reserves to wrap a glamour around himself. A quick look at the polished metal surface of the doors showed that it had been successful enough to look convincing under the garish artificial lights which never made any living being look well. It would be enough to fool his lover one last time, which was all that he needed right now.

A nod from the man had the doors soundlessly sliding apart only to meet the immediate and overwhelming wall of sound blasting from the lab. Thankfully he had remembered to brace himself on one of the handrails until the shockwave passed, so once he felt that he could move he began to make his way forward.

  


* * *

  


The doors to Tony's laboratory slash workshop had been relocated so that they were no longer directly across from those of the elevator, ostensibly as a security precaution. Mostly it granted Tony another few seconds to ignore anyone attempting to interrupt him while working. The advantage was that this gave Loki a few moments to observe his human lover unnoticed while the latter was thoroughly absorbed in his work.

Various projected diagrams, expanded schematics, currently running tests, and even a display of acoustic modulation levels hung around the engineer while various monitors in front of him displayed different sets of data. There were also myriad pieces and tools spread across the worktable in front of him, some in need of repair, some just coming together, and some seemingly having no purpose at all, such as one of those ugly plastic bobblehead dolls in Iron Man's likeness he kept in random places around the tower.

Though it was nearly impossible to discern which project he was working on at the moment, it was rare to find him engrossed solely with a single one, and when he was that focused he was all but impossible to distract. Loki had often been send in to physically drag him out of the room, get some food into him, and then put him to bed.

Several such memories played themselves out while he stood and watched the man. At first it had been the other Avengers and even Miss Potts asking him politely – ''You're the only one he listens to,” and “He gave you a code to override his security for a reason,” – but it had eventually devolved into ordering him to “fetch” the man and Tony himself all but pushing him out of the lab on several occasions. Throughout it all, only JARVIS had ever been constantly polite, whether it was due to his programming or the odd sort of bond the Ás and the machine had developed, and though the latter couldn't ignore his creator's direct commands, he had often found many ways to circumvent them.

It was strange that after all this time, all that had happened between himself and the genius so occupied in the other room, that he would feel as though the only friend he had left was the machine created by the man to be his servant.

That was, Loki thought, an unsurprising and rather uninspired joke of behalf of the multiverse. No doubt the confrontation that was mere moments away would be as amusing to the humorless Fates.

With a sigh, the slender god took the few last steps that brought him to stand directly in front of the laboratory doors. As they did not open immediately to grant him access nor did the volume of the music inside decrease, it became apparent that Tony had already ordered JARVIS to ignore the open access he had granted Loki. Loki himself was not surprised at this, and rather resignedly began to enter an access code on the keypad.

What did surprise him was that the lower security level code was denied, as were the next two higher level codes. He looked at the number pad quizzically.

“Your pardon, Loki,” explained JARVIS, “but SIR has currently locked out practically every access code below double Alpha level.”

Double Alpha level codes, as Tony's poor naming joke implied, were full-scale Avengers Assemble level emergencies; in other words, nothing short of saving a city in peril was likely to get Tony out of his workshop. It did not necessarily mean that he was in the middle of some sort of top secret project, and it wasn't likely to be considering that the specialized safety panels making up the wall were still in transparent mode, just that he was being his usual spiky “Don't disturb me while I'm working,” self.

Dropping his head against the metal frame of the door, Loki wondered for a moment if a single thing about his day was going to work in his favor before smiling brokenly to himself with the knowledge that it wouldn't.

His second surprise came when he felt the door shift just slightly.

“It appears as though there's a malfunction with the locking mechanism. I am unable to determine the cause of it at this time, nor can I re-engage the lock. Loki, perhaps you are able to ask Sir to check into this issue? It seems as though I am currently unable to gain his attention.” The computer voice sounded distinctly smug.

“My thanks,” he said, pushing open the doors.

Once he was inside the room the music abruptly cut out, the sudden silence causing Tony to jump and swear loudly. As the man began to scramble towards the Iron Man suit that was always kept on hand and ready to go, he argued with JARVIS as to why the machine had neglected to inform him of the emergency. Even as JARVIS refused to open the suit, he was still yelling.

Eventually the sound of Loki's laughter got through to the man.

Tony rounded on the taller man. “Is this some kind of fucking joke to you?”

“Sir, you have blocked all but the highest security overrides-”

“For a reason, Jay!” Tony was practically shouting now.

“And have eliminated all other communication methods as well,” continued the machine as though it hadn't been interrupted. “In addition, you have locked all visitors our of the lab, including even Doctor Banner-”

“Still for a reason,” the engineer muttered, though his rage seemed to be subsiding a bit. “How did Loki get in here anyhow?”

“Loki is right here,” said the man in question, with audible sadness in his voice. “You could acknowledge at least that much.”

“Yes, hi, I missed you, so on and so forth,” he said, standing on tip-toes to place a cursory kiss on his lover's cheek before settling himself back at his workstation. “Really, how did you get in here? And what do you need, I'm really busy right now.”

“Getting in here was all thanks to JARVIS. As for the reason, there is something I need to discuss with you.”

“Yeah, that's nice, can it wait?” It was clear that the inventor's response was automatic as he had already become re-engrossed in his work. There was really no point in attempting to interrupt him again, he would only become petulant followed by belligerent followed by actually forcing Loki out of the room and barring the door, as Loki had learned from experience. Not that he couldn't overpower him or simply break down the door, but part of building their relationship had hinged upon Loki's concession to not use any of his advantages over the mortal in order to place them on a more equal footing.

With open sadness on his face, Loki eyed the smaller man. This had, after all, been exactly the outcome he had expected: turned away by his final lover in his last moments. His fate had always been utterly inexorable.

“No, my dearest one,” he whispered. “I was never really that important.”

As he turned to leave the room, DUM-E, YOU, and Butterfingers all came rolling over, wanting attention. Just as with JARVIS and even the small service bots that ran throughout the tower, Loki had always had a special relationship with the machines, coming to know their personalities and quirks as well as their creator, if not better. He spent a moment with each one separately before taking a step back.

“I shall miss all of you. It was, in a way, like having my own children back again one last time.” He gave a last touch to each one of them, and then gently shooed them back into the room before pulling the door shut. He was startled but unsurprised at the exceptionally loud click of the door's security lock re-engaging.

He had just made it past the transparent walls when another coughing fit overtook him and he dropped to the floor. Wrapping his arms around himself only barely managed to keep him from convulsing with the force of his hacking. He didn't bother trying to smother the noise as Tony's music had picked up at its usual earsplitting volume the moment the door had shut. There was little chance the engineer would pay attention to anything outer than his work until whatever project was completed and he had likely restructured part of JARVIS' programming so that he wouldn't again be interrupted outside of a verified emergency.

The fit continued to intensify to the point where the god was expelling a fine crimson mist with every cough which was condensing into thicker, more visible drops as it continued.

He began to drag himself towards the elevator, shambling along as he used one hand to try and prevent the blood from splattering against the walls and floor. Already small cleaning bots had appeared to begin taking care of the mess, having been dispatched by JARVIS.

Once inside the metal box, with the doors shut fast behind him, he managed to grab hold of one of the handrails and pull himself into a sitting position in the corner. Given the unusual breeze coming from the vent, JARVIS must have increased the oxygen to the maximum.

Loki just sat there for a few minutes, struggling to draw breath. Even with the added oxygen he could feel the blood slowly filling his lungs. There was not much time left before the next attack and he no longer had enough seidr left for healing; having put on a glamour to appear before Stark had used just about all he had left. The only spell still active was the one Odin had placed on his those many centuries ago to conceal his Jötun heritage but that too would fade along with his life.

“Where to, Sir?”

“Penthouse, please,” the words just barely audible in his pained gasp. “I wish to... see the sky... one final time.”

Just as slowly as before, the elevator carriage began to rise.

At the soft chime that indicated the floor had been reached, Loki showed no reaction. He merely sat when he had dropped in the corner, breathing raggedly. Some minutes passed until, with shaking hands, he reached up to the rails and haltingly began to drag himself to his feet, inch by excruciating inch. When he had at last made it to his feet, unsteady and uncertain, the doors slowly slid apart to reveal none other than DUM-E waiting there, apparently having been transported up on the freight elevator that serviced all floors of the tower.

“He wished to assist you, Sir,” explained JARVIS. By this point Loki was too weak to waste words on correcting JARVIS' calling him “sir” even though he had the sense that the sentience was doing it out of respect. 

With a tiny nod from the green-eyed god, the machine rolled forward and slipped its arm around him, offering him support. Moving slowly, the unlikely pair made their way down the short hall and past the living area, the god having to stop several times to cough out seemingly larger quantities of blood. Several times he simply collapsed from the force of it, and the little machine did its best to steady and support him until he could get on his feet again. In their wake a small fleet of housecleaning bots gathered to scrub and mop away the bright vermilion pools.

By the time they reached the door to the expansive balcony, a fairly thick trail of red dripped constantly from the corners of Loki's mouth. The god took no notice and made no effort to wipe it away, as fixed as he was on reaching the outside.

The door opened before them and they slowly navigated outside. Loki shakily pointed towards a spot on the far side of the balcony that he'd always preferred; it was out of the view of anyone casually glancing out the door from inside, sheltered from the winds that were a constant up this high, yet still offered an unobstructed view of the sky.

DUM-E had to virtually drag him over to the place and did his best to gently prop him into a sitting position with his back against the railing. From there all Loki had to do was tip his head back into the gap between the bars so that he could see the black night above him.

He would have liked his last view to have been filled with the endless cosmos stretching above him, but the bright lights of the metropolis blotted out all the stars in the sky. Somehow, though, the empty blackness was more befitting of a forgotten creature like himself.

Although the air was thinner and the pressure lesser at this altitude, the cold of the night combined with his non-human heritage served to ease the severity of his internal bleeding. He could still feel the many way in which his body was breaking down, the way his seidr was slipping into nothingness. At least his ability to breathe and hence talk was more under control. It would help with the fact that there was one last thing he had promised.

“JARVIS,” he spoke quietly.

For a long moment there was no response. Then the outdoor projectors that Tony had installed in order to be able to work on his holoscreens whenever someone forced him out to get some fresh air came online.

The nearly invisible beams came together to form a generic sort of male. “Yes, Sir?” it spoke.

Loki quirked an eyebrow at it. “A humanoid form to celebrate your sentience? It looks a bit.. Vitruvian.”

“I do not have a genetic inheritance in order to adequately project an appropriate form, so I have assembled a temporary design based upon human standards. It is not yet a finished product,” he said. “However, that is not important. You wished to speak with me?”

“Yes. I believe I told you that if there was enough time 'ere the end, I would explain things to you.”

His sigh turned into a cough that sprayed drops of blood through the projection, causing the image to ripple.

“All things die without love.”

“Excuse me, Sir, but I do not understand.”

The Ás looked at the hologram for a moment before leaning his head back between the bars and directing his gaze towards the sky.

“I allowed myself to fall into the trap of love. Where once I had existed on the distrust and hatred of others, over time I came to depend on the trust of the Avengers and the love I shared with Anthony. At first I was glad; here I finally found a place where I was praised for the abilities that made me an outcast among the warriors of Asgard and accepted with all my flaws, not merely tolerated. I... no longer had to play a role. Or so I thought.”

Fixing JARVIS' image in his gaze, he continued on. “Once the initial wariness had subsided, though it never disappeared entirely, and I was seen as an asset rather than a detriment and a burden, things because much easier. I could aid this strange band of heroes along with Thor and strive to undo some of the damage wrought whilst under the control of the Mad Titan. Even my magics came to be of use, as tools of battle, of healing, and a subject of study for Anthony. Anthony...” His voice trailed off.

JARVIS spoke up. “You became close to my creator.”

“More than simply close, but you are already aware of that.” Loki tried to smile. “Neither of us had expected it to become anything more than a physical outlet. However, hearts work in strange ways, and the hearts of strange creatures such as your creator and myself work in ways even stranger. At some point lust had become love and love, as mortal songs say, is a drug. It turns into a dependency, an addiction. An overwhelming need that must be fed constantly. That in itself is not a terrible thing, except in the case of something like me.”

“You are not a something!” declared JARVIS with surprising force. In his recounting Loki had almost forgotten that JARVIS was no longer a highly complex program, but had developed a form of sentience that included emotion.

“Perhaps not,” he continued on, “but that bears little importance as my time runs out. What does matter is that as time wore on, my skills, my abilities, and my very presence were taken for granted. I was simply expected to win the fight, to heal the injuries, to do tricks for science, and to share Anthony's bed when he saw fit. There was no more praise, no more thanks, not even an acknowledgment. I simply had to be there and do then be gone when I was no longer needed. And so I began to starve.”

“Starve?”

“Just so. Call it withdrawal if that makes more sense with the drug metaphor. I no longer had access to what I needed in order to survive. I had become so dependent on it that in its absence I started to wither away. First the heart dies, then the spirit, then the body. You are aware that I have been declining for some time now, I know that Tony has you keep track of the health of all the Avengers and his close associates while they are in the tower. The scans you use for it are, in part, based on information he learned from studying my seidr.”

JARVIS nodded and knelt beside the god, though the projection remained hovering slightly above floor level. Loki's voice had been growing softer as he continued speaking, making it obvious that his strength was failing.

“I knew...” Loki paused and pushed a hand against his chest weakly, trying to stave off another cough. “I knew that it was unlikely to change things, and though I said the heart dies first, it has a way of lingering on as well. So I tried one last time to see if anyone would respond, at all, in a way.”

Gravely, JARVIS intoned, “Today. Your last visit.”

Loki tilted his head slightly.

“My last chance. Fate, however, never had any love for me. Now I am here, at the end of things. Ragnarök was another false prophesy. The truth is that all things die without love.”

“Even gods?”

“Yes, even gods.”

Loki tried to look at JARVIS, but he was having trouble seeing clearly. “Now I die here, alone and unregarded.”

“Not alone,” replied the hologram. “Not alone.”

DUM-E rolled closer and slipped his arm around the deity's shoulders. The projection of JARVIS carefully slid closer, aware that he could not make physical contact with the dying man. From inside the tower the numerous cleaning and service bots that had been busy washing away all traces of Loki's spilled blood came streaming out and took up positions surrounding the man, each making some sort of noise to indicate its presence.

Loki managed to bring his vision back into focus long enough to glance at the array of strange, silent sentinels he had acquired. Only he and Tony were aware that the little service robots actually had individual names – to the others they were almost invisible or called by the identification number printed on them. He ran over their names in his mind, recalling the name of each one and remembering that he himself had been responsible for most of their names. Tony hadn't cared until Loki had pointed out that DUM-E, YOU, and Butterfingers all had individual names as well as all his Iron Man suits. That Tony had given a mischievous little smile had been an indication that he had actually named all of them, but Loki went ahead and gave many of them names of his own, owing to the quirks of each bot, and Tony had gone along with all of them.

“Thank you,” he said, the words barely heard over the soughing of the wind.

He tiled his head back, and closed his eyes, feeling and not caring about the tears rolling down from his eyes. A million moments flashed through his mind: the ones from his youth and adolescence spun past quickly though he lingered over a few precious moments involving Frigga, the fall from the Bifrost and into the Void was a yawning chasm of pain but an absolute joy next to the torture he endured fro The Other and Thanos, the connection with the Tesseract and the Mind Gem containing scepter less painful but wrapped in a blue haze, then there was a different blue – Tony's arc reactor – and red and gold and the green of the Hulk and more pain but this time the pain brought clarity, the golden walls of Asgard and of his prison cell, his last words to Frigga...

And even then she had seen through them, just as she always had. He wished that he could take them back, even as he was saying them, knew that she saw the regret in his eyes, but it was too late, too late, always too late. Then there was red, the red of the Aether, of Thor, of more blood, his own blood and it should have been blue like his cursed skin, or poison green, or black like the monster he was. Blood and pain, and deception; he had taken on the likeness of Odin and created more peace and alliances between the realms than the old fool had done in centuries of warmongering.

As always, he was found out and cast out, this time to Midgard, sent powerless and magic-less and mortal just as Thor had been. He had expected to die, then, to be summarily executed as a criminal and madman and mass murderer, but Tony had intervened. The inventor, surely half-mad himself, had managed to make a convincing enough case on behalf of the Trickster being under someone ease's control following his own studies of the Tesseract and the scepter, and in a fit of pique Director Fury had decided to make “the Loki issue” into Stark's problem.

Memories began to flash forward quickly again: learning to live and work with the members of the Avengers, coming to build a kind of respect between himself and Banner, the strange sort of camaraderie with Lady Natasha, though he would never be forgiven by Barton they did have some enjoyable times playing tricks on the other heroes, the almost-friendship between himself and Pepper, and Tony.

Tony, his dear Anthony, with whom he never intended to fall in love. That was really the most painful memory of all; while the many tortures he had endured over his long life were a physical pain, nothing hurts the way it does when another person takes up residence in your heart only to abandon you just when you become dependent on that connection. Lust and then love...

Nights of pure physical release, sometimes to the point of violence, managed to give way to tender words and gentle motions. When “that bastard” had become “my boyfriend” and then “my love” and Loki knew at last what it meant to be loved and needed and cherished. Then things just started to lapse. 

No longer was he the one they turned to in need and repaid in gratitude. It became a default then an expectation, a repeat of so many days of “Loki do this” and “Loki fix that” and “Loki make it right” without a though given to what Loki needed or wanted. Tony had stayed true the longest, but that too began to fade, and with it Loki faded.

The wind blowing across the balcony turned bitterly cold, bringing with it an edge of frost. Loki couldn't feel it, couldn't feel the tears beginning to freeze to his skin, couldn't feel anything anymore. None of it mattered any more.

He opened his eyes briefly, focusing on something above him in the sky. Smiling softly, his lips moved, framing words that disappeared within the crying of the wind, and then was still.

  


* * *

  


“All right JARVIS, save everything and shut it down for the night,” said Tony, rising from his chair and stretching, his back and neck popping loudly.

He started to walk out of the lab, intent on going up to the penthouse to find some food before heading to bed, but stopped when he noticed that none of the holoscreens had saved or closed.

“JARVIS? Buddy? You there?” Tony glanced around the room but the screens remained unchanged, nor was there any verbal response.

“Jay, pal, you're starting to worry me.” He laughed nervously. It wasn't unknown for the A.I. to sometimes not respond if Tony had been ignoring the very protocols he had encoded.

Just as he was turning back to his workstation, JARVIS spoke.

“Sir, you are required on the penthouse balcony. All of the other members of the Avengers will be meeting you outside the entrance.”

Tony was rattled. Although he was responsible for all of JARVIS' coding and had been pleased to see the A.I.'s development over the years, even to the point of gaining something of a personality, it had been a long time since the mechanical voice had sounded so... inhuman. It was as though something in the machine had been reset or, if it were a human, would be as though it were attempting to hide something.

“JARVIS, seriously, what's going on? Is something wrong? Do I need a suit or is someone hurt or what?”

“Please enter the elevator, Sir.” The machine tone brooked no argument.

It wasn't as though Tony didn't trust the A.I. but the way it had been behaving oddly all day made no sense. Sure, he'd locked everyone out of his lab, run roughshod over his own safety protocols, and then there was that mysterious issue with the door when Loki had come by...

Something finally seemed to click in the engineer's brain. “Does this have anything to do with whatever it was Lokes wanted? 'Cuz he's probably in bed already or whatever. It's pretty late, right?”

“Please enter the elevator, Sir,” JARVIS repeated.

Shrugging, but feeling a growing sense of unease, Tony left the lab and stepped into the waiting elevator.

Outside the entranceway to the penthouse, the other members of the Avengers stood waiting awkwardly.

“Hey Stark, what the fuck, man? Your computer chased us out of the gym just to make us wait up here?” Clint asked in obvious annoyance. 

Natasha looked annoyed in the way that promised a minimum of a dozen bruises if her time was being wasted. Steve was shaking his head, either at the archer's choice of words or the entire situation, it was hard to tell. A slightly singed and faintly smoky smelling Bruce stood apart from the group, clearly looking as though he'd rather be anywhere else than this situation that was surely going to be another trial of his patience.

Following Clint's question, the rest chimed in with similar stories of the A.I. ordering them up to the penthouse level, where they would normally not have access, to wait for Tony to join them. As it was, Tony himself had no idea what was going on, having also been told to wait there with no indication as to what was in store.

“Well, hey, since the gang's all here...” started Tony but he was cut off by Natasha.

“JARVIS, where is Loki?” the redhead asked, her annoyance becoming more obvious. “And why isn't Thor here if you needed all of us?”

The machine voice replied, “Master Odinson is en route from New Mexico at maximum speed. Master Loki is on the balcony. If all of you would please proceed outside...”

Collectively, the assembled Avengers all turned their gazes towards the French doors leading out to the balcony. They were already wide open with a chilly breeze blowing through.

“Aw shit, what's he done now?” muttered the archer, who was sharply elbowed in the ribs by Natasha just as Steve was asking if anyone else had a bad feeling about what was going on.

Tony was the first to break free from the group, something in him not just agreeing that something was definitely wrong, but aching with the absolute assurance of it. Passing through the door, he grabbed the frame and spun himself towards the far side where Loki had always preferred to spend his time while outside.

An anguished cry and a thud had the rest of the group running at breakneck speed to join him.

Once outside they saw the engineer on his knees next to an overturned patio chair, obviously the source of the thudding sound, as he was staring wide-eyed and pale from shock.

Seated against the rail was the unmoving form of the god of mischief, his normally pale complexion ghostly white with a slight tint of blue, trails of frozen tears as twin glittering silver lines from his eyes to his jaw. His lips, painted a lurid crimson with likewise frozen blood, were turned up in the most beguilingly gentle smile any had ever beheld on him. DUM-E was still wrapped around the deity's shoulder, though his hand/head was gently stroking up and down Loki's arm. Around the god, arranged in expanding rows with the smaller ones closest to the man, were a number of the various little cleaning and service bots standing a silent vigil. It was their tiny blinking lights that were causing the god's frozen tears to sparkle.

Overcoming the shock, Bruce stepped forward and dropped to the god's side, first grasping a wrist to check for a pulse then feeling for one on Loki's neck but already knowing he would find none. “He's gone,” was all the ad hoc doctor said.

“Gone? What do you mean gone? He can't be gone! He can't just die!” screamed Tony. He scrambled forward, tiny robots rolling out of his way, and threw his arms around the icy body. “He's a god, he can't just fucking die!”

“I am afraid it's true,” JARVIS' voice came from the outdoor speakers. “Master Loki passed away six hours and forty-two minutes ago, alone. At the time of his passing Captain Rogers had not yet returned from his errands, Mister Barton and Miss Romanov were still sparring, Doctor Banner was engaged in his laboratory, and Sir and once again locked out everyone and everything except the most dire emergency notifications.”

The A.I.'s tone turned reproachful as it continued on. “Excepting the Captain and Master Odinson whom were both away from the tower, Master Loki attempted to meet with each one of you and explain his condition. In all cases he was refuted. As he continued his ascent through the tower, the only one in communication was myself. Master Loki's final request was to be on the balcony in order to see the sky a final time. By the time he was exiting the elevator on the penthouse level, he could no longer walk unassisted, so DUM-E, having developed something of an affectionate relationship with Master Loki and noticing that he was unwell when he tried to visit Sir in his workshop, transported himself up in the freight elevator in order to help Master Loki outside. He has remained by his side since.”

“The household and service robots, having likewise in their own way developed a relationship with Master Loki, following cleaning up the massive amount of blood he was coughing up during his final travels through the tower, likewise gathered around him in his final moments and have stayed with him.”

A few nearly silent gasps of shock and disbelief and murmured words went unregarded by JARVIS as the disembodied voice continued on.

“Master Loki, in our conversations between his failed attempts to communicate with the members of the Avengers, informed me that if he had enough time to speak before his passing, he would inform me as to the cause of his death. Out of respect, I will not now recount the conversation. You may watch it on the security footage later, if you so wish. Suffice to say, all of this could have been prevented.”

Natasha spoke up. “What do you mean 'prevented'”? but any response from JARVIS went unheard over the sound of Thor's arrival.

“My friends,” he called boisterously, “JARVIS has alerted me to a grave emergency. Tell me, is there a battle to be fought?” At the latter question his voice became jubilant with the thought of another chance to fight with his companions and protect the lives of the innocent.

Steve moved over to the blonde Aesir and pulled him aside, explaining thing sin hushed whispers. They could hear Thor talking back much more loudly, growing louder as the conversation went on. Finally Steve laid a hand on Thor's arm in an attempt to gain the man's full attention, but he was nearly thrown aside by the Thunderer who bellowed, “No, this cannot be!” before striding over to where Loki was still seated against the railing with an openly sobbing Tony still clinging to him.

Thor's footsteps slowed, faltered, stopped completely as he beheld the scene, then sped up to drop to his knees by his brother's side in the space recently vacated by Bruce.

Even if the wailing of his teammate, highly out of character from Tony's usual demeanor, were not enough to prove the Captain's words true, the unnatural stillness of his brother would have been enough. The only times Loki had ever been completely still were those where he was deeply engrossed in his magic, meditating, or during hunt or battle. Even while reading some part of him was still in motion: fingers drumming, toes tapping, pacing around with the book in his hand, as though he were filled with a great energy that could not be contained. His mother had told him something similar once, how those with strong levels of seidr could feel the life thrumming throughout the Great Tree, and it was not unusual to find powerful magic users unable to keep still for long periods of time outside of necessity.

“Oh, Loki,” he breathed, reaching to gently cup his brother's jaw. “Why could not this, too, be a trick?” Hot tears filled the Thunder god's eyes. Letting go of the cold skin, he reached to caress the ink black hair, but at that moment Loki's form began to glow a soft green.

Thor had just enough time to pull his crying teammate off his brother's lap before Loki's body dissolved into dozens of brilliantly shining green lights that slowly floated up into the midnight sky, eventually spreading apart and vanishing into the heavens. DUM-E tried to take hold of one of the glittering particles as it went past, but it slipped right through his claw.

The inventor watched as what used to be the body of his lover became some kind of light show that eventually disappeared before his very eyes. He hadn't really even begun to deal with the fact that the man, a nearly immortal god, had so suddenly died, but now there was nothing left, not even a body. He wanted to keep crying, he wanted to scream at Loki, wanted to hit something, wanted to drink... And more than anything he wanted an explanation for everything. Wordlessly, he turned toward Thor, scrubbing at his eyes.

With heavy resignation, Thor turned and sat with his back against the railing, mirroring the pose of his departed brother. “Tis not a trick this time. Loki, my brother is truly gone. Though I know not the cause of his passing nor the reason why he did not inform anyone...” Here he paused, looking at his teammates in a questioning manner before continuing on. “Loki has gone in the manner of a true child of Yggdrasil.”

Tony stared at Thor, incomprehension writ large across his face. He fought down the urge to grab the beefy blonde and slam his head into the steel rails, since it would likely end in him hurting himself, and said, “Can you try that again in terms we humans can understand?”

Seeing the nods from the rest of the Avengers, Thor began, “As my mother explained it to me, those who practice seidr have the ability to sense the approach of their own death. Not always does it come true, it is not a guarantee as Loki himself proved many a time. However when it comes to the true end of life, they have the foreknowledge of it and so strive to wrap up as many loose ends as possible, assuming they're not meant to die in battle. A sorceress or a mage like Loki will speak with those closest to them, sometimes even their enemies out of a kind of respect, tidy up their affairs, and disperse or dispose of items of a magical nature depending on their whim. They often choose a place special to them to spend their final moments. Sometime after the spirit has departed, their bodies break down and rejoin the flow of life in the great world tree.”

“And what, I'm just supposed to believe this shit?” Tony jumped to his feet, hands clenched at his sides. “Fucking magic and giant trees and just turning into laser Floyd?”

“You have the evidence of your own eyes, Man of Iron,” said Thor, “and you felt his lifeless body for yourself. Loki, God of Mischief, is no more. What I do not understand,” he rose, cutting off whatever remark was on the tip of the engineer's tongue, “is why he did not speak to any of you before his passing. Surely, at the least, he would have words for you?” The god looked pointedly at the much shorter human.

As for Tony, he quickly withered under the Thunderer's gaze, and rapidly made his way into the tower.

Steve coughed awkwardly, looking at the team. Bruce, Clint, and Natasha exchanged a look.

Eventually the redhead spoke. “Thor, I believe we have some things to discuss.”

  


* * *

  


While the others were engaged in a very awkward conversation with a grieving god, and wondering if they were going to come out of it unscathed, Tony was back in his workshop, though this time there was no work being done. He wandered around the space in a daze, not seeing or really thinking anything. Even when DUM-E eventually made his way back, he hardly noticed. 

The little robot rolled over to his brothers and had a conversation in chirps and beeps. They all sat silently for a moment, then at some nonvocal signal each departed for their docking station.

At some point Tony finally became aware of his surroundings again. He was, by then seated back at his work station. Checking one of the holoscreens showed that around four hours had elapsed since he was on the balcony. Given that the room appeared to still be intact, whatever everyone else had told Thor had at least prevented him from showing up and making Tony into a very large and ugly pulpy red smear on the lab's floor. Of course, he'd probably have to actually talk to Thor himself at some point, but it would have to wait.

“JARVIS. JARVIS, please. I know you're there. You're always there. And I fucked up, Jay. I fucked up really badly this time. And you know I did and I know I did and Lok-” His voice broke on a sob. After a few moments of trying to get his breathing under control again, he continued. “Loki knows I fucked up. I just... Send me all the security footage of the last month. Please. I need to figure out where I went wrong.”

There was no vocal confirmation from the A.I. but the requested footage began to appear on windows around the engineer. Separated by day, area of the tower, whomever Loki was with at the time or alone, and with the audio on mute but captioned, as though the idea of interrupting the silence of the lab was unthinkable.

Over and over Tony watched as various members of the team, himself not the least, blew off, ignored, or outright physically pushed Loki aside whenever he approached one of them, while at the same time commanding him to do this or that or join a fight or heal wounds or otherwise be all but a servant. Even Steve, oh so good and perfect Steve had on several occasions evaded the god but still called on him to help with various tasks.

The footage that wasn't on the security cameras was the worst. That was strickly in Tony's mind, in the memories of turning down Loki's attempts at physical affection when he was tired for yet another fight or exhausted from a marathon in the lab. Worse were the times he had inveigled Loki into having sex with him when he was obviously too tired or not interested himself. Now Tony was questioning whether his acquiescence was because he actually wanted sex or if Loki was merely doing it in order to keep Tony happy.

Thinking that it probably couldn't get worse than than that, he shoved aside all the windows but one and pulled that one closer to himself.

“Could I have tonight's footage from the balcony security cameras starting at the time Loki got to the doorway?”

Obediently, the machine intelligence started the video from the various cameras mounted outside, though this time the audio was engaged.

Tony watched as DUM-E all but dragged the bleeding god outside. Saw the hologram form the A.I. had made for himself and heard their conversation. When Loki said to the projection, “all things die without love,” tears started to fall from his eyes but he kept watching the video, making no effort to wipe them away. He learned of the role that he had played in both becoming the god's source of life, and ultimately the cause of his death. And saw, too, that the only ones to stay by his love's side were machines that Tony had created.

Without being told, JARVIS began to replay the footage. Tony watched again and again as the one person who have loved him unconditionally died surrounded by a fleet of little machines. Over and over, until something finally caught his eye through the tears.

“JARVIS, that last time Loki opens his eyes. Focus in on that.”

The footage zoomed closer, the high resolution cameras of Tony's own design making the image crystal clear. He watched as Loki opened his eyes, smiled at something in the sky, and spoke, but the words weren't audible.

“Can you clear up the sound, JARVIS?”

Silence dragged on for a few minutes while the footage continued to loop on the screen.

Eventually the A.I. answered, “Audio processing will take an estimated four minutes and seventeen seconds for low quality, nine minutes and thirty-seven seconds for clear stereo.”

“Do it please, Jay. I need to hear him one last time.”

“Processing the audio now.”

A countdown timer appeared in the corner of the screen. Tony kept watching the loop of Loki's last minutes alive and mentally berating himself for every single time he'd had the chance to stop what should never have happened in the first place. If only he'd been less of a selfish ass, if only he'd paid attention, if only he'd loved Loki as selflessly as Loki had loved him, if only...

Tony's ruminations were interrupted by the JARVIS' stolid voice. “Synchronizing clarified audio. Updated video will display in five seconds.”

On the screen, Tony once again saw Loki, his Loki open his eyes.

Smiling, the god said, “Hello, Mother. I've missed you so much.”

And Tony Stark broke for the last time.

**Author's Note:**

> I initially started writing this in the middle of one of the most severe depressive states I've had in a long time. I'm not going to bore you all with the details of my personal life, and you probably don't care all that much anyhow, but suffice it to say that when you see people constantly talking about/reblogging posts about how they'll always be there for someone in need, even if just to talk, and how they're always the first one to jump in if they see someone they know saying they're not well or they need help, but they completely ignore you when you're all but screaming that you just need someone to talk to or say something or just actually be there instead of completwly ignoring your very existence, it doesn't exactly help much.
> 
> So yeah, I was feeling pretty shitty anyhow and being ignored by a pile of obviously hypocritical people wasn't helping me any. Therefore I had a J.R.R. Martin moment of "Well fuck you, I'm going to kill a character you love," and that's how this story came about. Never thought it would get so long, but maybe the writing was cathartic or something...


End file.
